Don't Make Me Think About You
by TheCrowMaiden
Summary: Zoro and Sanji had an unspoken, unanimously agreed upon rule: even if they're saving each others lives and getting mangled, don't make a big deal about it. Zoro didn't realize why they had the rule until Sanji broke it. - Kind of a bromance implied. My apologies for the poor summary. Swearing, but nothing too bad.
1. Chapter 1

The light cloud cover blocked out the moonlight, and the deck was almost in complete darkness. Zoro leaned on the railing of the _Thousand Sunny_ and watched the ocean, his breathing slowly returning to normal. Sweat from his workout trickled down the back of his neck and he irritably scratched at the damp, constricting bandages that covered it. As usual, he had come out the worse for wear after their last fight. They were mostly cuts though, which was why it itched like the devil and also why he had to lift weights in the dark of night. Chopper had gotten tired of re-doing the popped stitches and threatened to confine Zoro to the medical bay if he caught the swordsman doing any strenuous activity.

Zoro kept his workout light enough to keep his stitches intact, but he'd be damned if he stopped completely because of a few cuts. The only one that really bothered him was the one on his neck. It was healing the fastest since it was the shallowest, and it felt like tiny insects were dancing around his throat it itched so terribly. He drummed his heavy fingers against the rail, resisting the urge to tear off the bandage and rip off the scabs.

A flicker of light caught his attention, and he turned to glare at the ship's cook. He had heard the familiar click of the man's lighter, but he hadn't realized that Sanji was as close to him as he was. Zoro had a particularly nasty hole in his side because the cook had been too concerned about those idiots Usopp and Nami to watch his own back. Not that Sanji had gotten away unharmed. The cook's movements were jerky and stiff from the tight swath of bandages around his body that kept all his broken ribs in place.

Sanji took up a position on the rail that mimicked Zoro's apart from the one hand he used to simultaneously prop his chin on and hold his cigarette. For a few moments there was complete silence, which was something that happened between them very rarely.

"What's the matter?" Zoro finally asked, "Still angry that I got one up on you by saving your ass during that fight?"

"Don't be stupid." Sanji's eyebrow twitched and he took a deep drag of his cigarette before blowing out a thin stream of smoke into the cool night air. Zoro watched with mild interest as Sanji repeated the process a couple times, since the only time Sanji smoked with any sort of deliberation was when he was serious. Otherwise the cook seemed to pursue his nicotine habit with a careless disinterest, letting the bent cigarette dangle from his lips unlit half of the time.

But as the silence again stretched uncomfortably, Zoro lost patience and snapped at the other man. "Well?! Are you going to talk to me or not, you bastard?"

"Shut the hell up, moss-head. I'm thinking, which I know may be hard for you to understand."

Sanji stubbed out his nearly-spent cigarette dangerously close to Zoro's forearm, the butt sizzling out without leaving a mark on the rail.

"What the fu-!"

"I don't like you getting hurt."

Cut off mid-curse, Zoro stared at the cook with confusion and annoyance. Confusion was winning out though, as Zoro tried to decide if the comment had been made with actual concern. No matter what they got themselves in to or out of, they never made more than casual and often scathing comments on the others condition. Sanji, perhaps assuming what Zoro might be thinking, snorted.

"Don't be so goddamn surprised," he drawled "I don't like _any _of my crewmates getting hurt."

"Then get to the point already, asshole." Zoro turned his back on the cook, closing his eyes and settling into his usual napping position on the deck. "I don't have time for this shit."

He fully expected a swift kick for his attitude, which would have been fine with him if it would make the other man go away and stop acting so damn weird. They could fight, finish, and everything could go back to normal. The conversation was on a fine line between their usual banter and something almost honest, and Zoro didn't want the balance to tip the wrong way.

Instead of the blunt impact of one of Sanji's stupidly impractical dress shoes though, Zoro heard an odd clink, like a cup or dish against wood. He opened one eye and looked up, barely able to make out the cook's face now that it was without the glow of a cigarette. There was a long pause and Zoro almost snapped again, but Sanji pushed himself up from the rail with a sigh.

"Just…stop making me worry, bastard."

Without a backward glance Sanji walked crookedly away in the direction of the galley, leaving the swordsman by himself. Which was almost enough like the cook's usual attitude to reassure Zoro.

Except sitting next to Zoro's boot, its soft white dimly visible in the night, was a small bottle of sake that Sanji could have and must have had stashed in his coat. Zoro had long since given up on getting any booze until the next time they made port, as he had literally been kicked from the kitchen the last time he had looked for any. More than half-expecting a trap, Zoro popped it open and sniffed at experimentally before shrugging and downing it in a single long gulp.

It wasn't a trick, and he briefly enjoyed the clean burn of the strong alcohol. It was nowhere near enough to get him even buzzed, but the familiar heat in his gut was comforting. Unfortunately it felt a little too much like an apology, and after a minute he wished he hadn't drank it all. Lacking a sufficient amount to get drunk, he was left with a persistent feeling that turned his thoughts continuously back to the cook and the last comment the man had made.

"Shit."

_Author's note: My first foray into One Piece fan-fiction, I've only made it through about half of the manga and watched a couple of the movies, so I'm sorry if things aren't totally right. I might continue it for another chapter if a) I feel I could do so without it being crap, and b) if there is interest in it. Thanks for reading *hearts*  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: Hey! I really hadn't planned to continue this, but after a brief conversation with a reviewer, I felt disappointed I had left it where it was. Before I knew it, I had penned out the basics and whipped this up. So this is for nekonesan; thanks for the kickstart!_

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Zoro grumbled when he was jostled out of his nap, yawning as he tried to make sense of what time it was. From the sunlight it was safe to assume it was daytime at the least, though he had no clue what the hour was. He rolled his shoulders, straining against the still uncomfortably tight bandages. Chopper had knotted them an absurd number of times to keep Zoro wrapped up. The swordsman tried to slide a finger underneath the knot digging into his sternum, scowling when he couldn't.

"Oi, Zoro! You're awake now, right?" Luffy called boisterously from his seat on top of the figurehead, grinning cheerfully down at his crewmate and obliviously stating the obvious. "Breakfast is going to be real soon! Chopper said we had to make sure you ate!"

Roughly pushing away Luffy's over-stretched rubber arms, the source of his unwelcome awakening, Zoro sat up and looked around. He would have preferred to sleep through the day and avoid the well meaning but annoying attentions of their little reindeer doctor. It wasn't like Zoro didn't go through this every other time they had a run in with someone who wanted to kill them. A few new scars wouldn't stop the swordsman; they would barely slow him down.

Luffy, who looked quite pleased to have managed to wake his friend, jumped off the figurehead and landed in a heap next to the first mate. Zoro shoved his captain over when he landed so Luffy didn't accidently open any of Zoro's stitches with unnecessary roughhousing. "What are you still doing out here if breakfast is almost done?"

"'Cause Sanji's in a bad mood." Usopp called from the ladder before Luffy could speak, as he climbed up from the lawn deck. "He's been crashing around something awful and even the girls haven't tried to go in the galley yet."

So the cook was off the wall enough to even make the girls wary of him? Zoro smirked slightly at that; he'd have to remember to mention it later. A nagging thought at the back of his head wondered if it was related to Sanji's odd behaviour the night before, but he ignored it.

"Sanji's probably just making something really good! With lots of meat!" Luffy insisted with a grin, clueless as always to the somewhat unstable tempers of his crewmates.

The look on Usopp's face spoke volumes about his lack of belief in his captain's statement, but before he could say anything they heard the sound of the galley door open followed by the idiotic swooning of Sanji over the girls who had been waiting outside.

Luffy and Usopp both made an immediate beeline for the galley, Usopp's previous fear forgotten when faced with the prospect of breakfast and an audience to his tales. Zoro stretched cautiously once they left, laying down flat on the deck while trying to avoid bumping his deeper wounds. He would rather have a nap than food, and he wasn't going to haul himself down the ladder without decent motivation…like booze, which he was unlikely to get. He certainly didn't want to get anywhere near Sanji right now.

The cook had probably only been in a mood because it was always harder to get any work done once Chopper brought out the bandages, but still. With any luck the cook would be distracted enough by Nami and Robin to not notice if Zoro was there, and if Zoro was really lucky Chopper would be too cowed by Sanji's earlier fit to notice either.

Warm sunlight and soft grass was as good as any hammock to the swordsman, and he closed his eyes with a content sigh. They were moving toward a summer island again, and the weather was perfect for dozing. The bandages were still too tight, and his neck itched, but with a little peace and quite Zoro would be all set.

"Hey, asshole."

Damn. Zoro opened one eye and glared at the cook standing over him, a plate in one pale hand and the other in his suit pocket. "What the hell do you want, curly-eyebrow?"

Sanji's eyebrow twitched and he none-too-gently tapped the heel of his polished shoe on Zoro's upper leg. It was just about the only place on the swordsman that wasn't injured, and for some reason it pissed Zoro off more that the cook even knew that than if the blond had hit an injury.

"It's breakfast time," Sanji paused to exhale a puff of smoke and made even that annoying, "you honestly think I wouldn't notice the absence of your ugly green-topped mug? Chopper said you needed to eat."

Looking at the steaming plate the cook still held up, Zoro grimaced. The odds that it was going to be filled with medicinal herbs from Chopper were high, and he wouldn't be surprised if it was even drugged. Like hell he was going to take that risk. Zoro scowled and settled his hands behind his head.

"Screw off. I'm not eating that junk."

The swordsman was expecting the cook to kick him, but he wasn't expecting to have the wind knocked out of him when the damn blond forcefully sat on him, legs straddling his ribs. Winded and furious, Zoro glared at Sanji. The cook had once again avoided any of Zoro's serious wounds, and the swordsman somewhat irrationally wanted to murder the other man for it.

"Look," Sanji ground out around his cigarette, "I'm leaving this plate here, and I'm going to go clean up the kitchen. When I get back this plate better be clean and I better be able to smell it on your breath. Because if you don't eat or waste this food I will pull out your stitches while you sleep and tell Chopper you did it last night lifting weights."

With as little warning as when he had landed on Zoro in the first place, Sanji stood up and walked away. Zoro was left to consider what was now the second time in the last two days that the cook had acted differently than normal, as he waited to get his breath back. What was different about Zoro getting hurt in the last fight as opposed to the rest?

He ate the food after rolling onto his less injured side, a small spark of happiness in the middle of his annoyance when he found that the meal was mostly rice with a topping of fresh fish and vegetables. Zoro had more than half expected gruel. The food also lacked the distinct taste of medicine to his surprise.

Plate and fork in hand, Zoro grumbled and swore as he made his way down the ladder. He could hear the unmistakable sounds of Usopp telling a tall tale with the other males of the crew laughing, over on the other side of the upper deck. Which meant that the crashing and banging emerging from the galley were being caused by the cook alone.

Zoro opened the door without hesitation, ignoring the god-awful racket. Surrounded by the breakfast mess and what looked like every dish on the ship, Sanji worked with vehemence. While that itself wasn't unusual, the cook's movements were. The man who usually moved with a decidedly annoying dancer-like grace, was working like a puppet missing a few strings. The broken ribs were obviously more of a problem than Zoro would have thought.

What do you want, mossball?" The cook snapped, ineffectually trying to use his hip to lever a huge pot onto the counter, "Go grow somewhere else, I'm busy."

The swordsman ignored him and grabbed the pot with one hand. He easily lifted it up and set it in the sink before crossing his arms and looking at the blond.

"Hell is your problem?" Sanji asked him, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear and gripping it between his teeth. "I'm trying to get shit done, and I don't need to be tripping over your stupid ass."

Zoro just took the plate he had set down when he came in and slid it into the sink. He looked at the mess, looked at the irate cook, and scowled.

"I'll dry."

Whatever other insults or profanities Sanji had been prepared to send the swordsman's way were lost in surprise. Chewing absently on his cigarette, he gave a slight nod of quiet acceptance and moved to Zoro's side at the sink.

They worked in silence for a while, lost in their own thoughts. Zoro wondered why he was so riled up by Sanji's behaviour anyway. Accepting another plate from the blond, he decided it was because it made things complicated.

Sanji had basically told Zoro not to die. Why? Because Sanji didn't want Zoro to die. And that just made things weird. It was easy to insult and fight the cook, just like it was easy to protect and fight alongside of the cook. Their relationship wasn't defined, and that made it simple. Zoro didn't know if there was a way to address Sanji's concern and keep that.

Still, the honest plea the cook had made the night before kept haunting the swordsman. They were friends when it came down to it, even if Zoro didn't want to admit it. Zoro didn't want to worry his friends, any of them. But how could he say something like that to the cook of all people? After four more plates and a cup, he finally had an idea.

"Hey, pervert-cook?"

"What?"

"If I die, I'm gonna haunt you until you get exterminated too, you know."

"The hell kind of statement is that?!" Sanji said, glaring as he shoved a clean saucepan into Zoro's hands.

"A true one!" Zoro snapped back, rinsing the saucepan and briefly considering hitting the cook with it for being difficult. "Look you idiot, all I'm saying is I'm not letting your sorry ass be the only one left watching out for the crew."

"You saying I couldn't handle it, bastard?" The blond jabbed Zoro with the ladle he was finished washing as he spoke, but underneath his normal derisive tone and expression was a spark of what Zoro thought might be understanding.

"I know you couldn't." Zoro smirked, nimbly dodging the kick aimed at his shin.

"Shut the hell up before I kill you myself just to prove you wrong!"

"As if you could."

"Bastard!"

"Asshole."

They bickered and insulted and fought through the rest of the dishes just like a typical day, and when they finished Sanji mysteriously produced a bottle of liquor. But this time, Zoro didn't mind the gift or the caring implied. This time he sat and ignored the cook's complaint that the swordsman drank too much, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve just to piss the other man off. And when Sanji kicked him in the leg, Zoro just smirked. Things were back to normal, but now they both understood just what their normal actually was. And if that involved caring about each other, well, they could do that and Zoro wouldn't mind. Well, so long as they didn't make it too obvious, anyway.

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_The end! As always, I greatly appreciate having spelling mistakes etc pointed out to me. Much love. _


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